


You've Got Me All Up In Arms and Confused

by VforVitaly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:17:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VforVitaly/pseuds/VforVitaly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In college, Stiles finally hits his stride, and his new found confidence...and new glasses...catch the attention of someone Stiles never thought would look twice at him - Danny Mahealani, but no one is surprised more by the new found attraction than Danny, himself. </p><p>(based off this prompt: "All of these pics from The Internship make me want a Stanny fic where Stiles starts wearing glasses in college and Danny WANTS.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Got Me All Up In Arms and Confused

            Being able to say “I survived high school,” is pretty standard for most college freshman, but for Stiles, it’s more than that. He didn’t just get through awkward voice modification, his body changing…and not in a direction he would have liked, rejection from girls, rejection from guys, indecision about how to wear his hair and deal with acne, failure to perform athletically, failure to perform academically to some extent (Stiles is smart, but he’s an unusual thinker, and with a standard high school curriculum, there’s not a lot of room for unusual thinkers.) What surviving high school means for Stiles is, not only all of those things, but also basic, general, “I’m still alive” survival, because when you’re best friend becomes a werewolf your sophomore year, shit gets real.

            Very, very real.

            College is the first place where Stiles can finally come into his own. Somehow, by hook or by crook, he managed to get into Stanford, so for the first time in his life, he’s not overshadowed somehow by Scott (who went to Cal State). They may be best friends, and Stiles loves Scott, like a brother, like a best friend, but it’s nice to finally be able to rise on his own, and rise he does.

            In college, unusual thinkers can find their place. Stiles gets to take the sorts of classes that he wants to take, the ones that interest him. The curriculum isn’t cookie cutter, not anymore, it’s whatever he wants it to be, and it’s not long before he really hits a stride. Of course, first semester is four classes – a freshman seminar, and three others. Stiles takes history courses, and on his first day, he’s surprised to find that he’s not the only Beacon Hills graduate in the freshman class. Sitting in the front row of the Western Civ class that Stiles signed up for is Danny Mahealani.

            Stiles is trying to separate himself from his high school image, so he doesn’t say hi to Danny, he just finds a seat near the back, and keeps his head down when class starts, and it works. It seems like Danny doesn’t notice him, and why should he? It’s a big class with a lot of people, and while Stiles excels at the work, he doesn’t tend to answer questions in class, at least not this class, because the longer it takes Danny to realize he’s there, the longer he has to build his own image around what Danny could tell people about what he was like in high school.

            Stiles tries really hard not to care what people think about him, but he’s always cared what Danny thinks, and unfortunately for Stiles, Danny’s never thought much of him. At all. Stiles wanted to be Danny’s friend in high school, but things happened, and it didn’t work out the way that he would have hoped. They had mutual friends, but the Stiles/Danny friend bridge had been burned by one too many annoying text messages and strange questions from Stiles to the goalie, and he lost out on his chance. He has a second chance, now, and he wants to make it count.

            Of course, Danny isn’t as blind as Stiles seems to think. He’s known since day one that Stiles is in his history class – a class he’s only taking, by the way, to fill a requirement. He is there for computer science, and one day, he’s going to use it to take over the world…or make billions of dollars and buy his own island in the Caribbean. He hasn’t decided yet. What he has decided is that college has made Stiles different.

            He doesn’t just see Stiles in class, but he sees him at parties, he sees him in the halls, around campus, even around town, and he’s always talking to someone…which doesn’t surprise Danny. What does surprise Danny is that he doesn’t say crazy things anymore. The things that Danny overhears are intelligent and thought out, and he thinks for the first time that maybe he underestimated the weird, hyper active kid with the impossible ability to annoy him even when Danny felt as though he was on top of the world. Stiles has always grated on Danny a little, but the more Danny notices Stiles, the more he becomes convinced that whatever Stiles he knew in high school – or thought he knew – isn’t the real Stiles. The real Stiles is smart, bordering on witty, even, and when Danny is passing papers back, he accidentally-on-purpose glimpses at Stiles’ grade, and he’s shocked to find that it’s higher than his own – only by 1%, but still, higher is higher, and Danny knows this professor is fair. That means Stiles must be killing it, and a part of him wants to steal the paper and read it, but he doesn’t, because he’s pretty sure Stiles would notice if he were the only kid in the class who didn’t get his paper back.

            Man, Danny reminds himself. Not kid.

            But it’s hard to think of Stiles as anything but a kid, due to the way that he’s always acted, even in tough situations, and the semester carries on without Danny thinking much of it, except that maybe he should talk to Stiles at some point. He keeps meaning to, but he never gets around to it.

            And then Stiles gets glasses, and everything goes to shit.

            Danny has always had a thing for the nerdy look, and when Stiles finally starts to make friends, friends who like him for who he is, friends who know him as a guy who’s actually smart and sometimes funny, he ditches the contacts he’s worn for years, and starts wearing the glasses he had to get in the 8th grade that he promptly ditched freshman year of high school for contacts after an unfortunate bullying incident involving the baseball team.

            At first, Danny doesn’t notice the change, but one day, when their professor asks a question, Stiles raises his hand to answer, and the class turns to look at him. What he’s saying is smart, well thought out, clever, even, and on top of it all, he’s rocking a pair of rectangle-frame, black, plastic rim glasses, and Danny swears he’s looking at a whole new person. It’s like there’s this guy that’s been I his life for the past four years, that he never really noticed, not like this, and then all of a sudden, one pair of glasses changes everything, and Danny’s concentration goes out the window.

            He finds himself fidgeting in class, waiting for Stiles to raise his hand so that he has an excuse to turn around and look at him without being weird. Danny starts looking for excuses to go down hallways that he knows Stiles is going to go down, and he sort of by accident figures out what time Stiles normally eats dinner with his friends, and what dining hall, and he casually passes by their table every so often, just to sneak a glance, and before long, Danny realizes that he is stalking Stiles. He, Danny Mahealani, Lacrosse god of Beacon Hills, is stalking awkward, nerdy, strange, Lacrosse Un-God of Beacon Hills, and it’s then that he breaks down and calls Jackson, because he needs some sense knocked into him, and not just the “Jesus Christ, Danny… _him?”_ that he would get from Lydia. He needs honest to god, Rafiki-hitting-Simba-over-the-head-with-his-staff sense knocked into him.

            “Hello?” Jackson answers the phone.

            “Hey, it’s me.”

            “Yeah, caller ID is still a thing, dude.”

            “Shut up.”

            “If you don’t wanna talk, don’t call,” Jackson says, and to anyone else, that might seem overly mean, but Danny knows that Jackson doesn’t mean it, at least not fully.

            “Miss you too,” Danny quips.

            “What’s up?” Jackson asks.

            “Well, I have a problem…”   

            “Out with it, I don’t have a life time to lead up to you telling me your problems, Danny. You’re my best friend or whatever, but seriously?”

            “I’mstalkingStiles.” The words leave Danny’s mouth in a complete rush, and Jackson almost doesn’t catch them.

            Almost.

            “You’re _what?_ ”

            Danny can hear the ridicule dripping from Jackson’s voice, and in a weird way, it puts him at ease, because that’s what he was looking for. Someone to knock some sense into him.

            “I’m…he…” Danny sputters, and lets out a deep sigh, because he feels completely unglued.

            “He what?” Jackson asks, disdain pouring from every syllable.       

            “He got glasses.”

            “Oh for the love of god, Danny, seriously? That’s still a thing for you?” Jackson rolls his eyes, and Danny can’t see him, but he knows Jackson well enough to know what kind of face Jackson’s making.

            “It’s not just that. He’s smart, Jackson. He’s not just weird and crazy anymore, he’s actually smart. And hot. He’s hot. Oh god, this can’t be happening to me!” Danny moans into the phone.

            “Oh my god, you’re not joking.” Jackson sounds shocked, and Danny realizes that Jackson really didn’t think he was serious, at least not at first.

            “No, I’m really not.” Danny’s voice sounds pitiful, and Jackson isn’t sure what to tell him.           

            “I don’t know, man…I think maybe you should explore it.”

            “What?” Danny’s jaw nearly drops to the floor.       

            “It’s college! If you want him so bad, bone him, see if you actually like it, and go from there.” He shrugs. “It’s basic.”

            “Dude, I don’t even know if he’s into that.”

            “Go find out,” Jackson suggests. “I don’t have time for your whiney girly crap – either bone him and get it out of your system, or don’t bone him and get over it.”

            “I never fail to miss your blunt attitude,” Danny states. They talk for a little while longer, and then both hang up. Danny doesn’t feel anymore reassured than he did before, but a dream he has that night featuring Stiles wearing glasses…and nothing else…leaves him thinking that maybe Jackson’s right. Maybe he just needs to make his move and it out of his system.

            A few days later, Danny finally says something to Stiles.

            “Hey.” He walks up to him after history class. “I accidentally grabbed your proposal, it got stuck to mine.” It hadn’t. Danny took it.

            “Oh, thanks, I was just about to go ask where it was,” Stiles states, taking it and cramming it into his backpack…which from the glimpse Danny gets is terribly disorganized. Maybe some things never changed. Stiles turns to leave, but Danny stops him.

            “Do you wanna grab lunch?” Danny blurts out.

            “Um…” Stiles looks at him, frowning. “You…want to grab lunch?”

            “Yeah, I mean, sure.” Danny shrugs.

            “With me.”

            “Yes.”

            “Me…Stiles?”

            “You know what, forget it?” Danny rolls his eyes.

            “No, no, let’s do it. Lunch. Food. Awesome. Let’s do it!”

            “Oh, okay, cool.” Danny nods, peering at Stiles sidelong as they walk towards the nearest campus dining establishment, which happens to be a sandwich cart outside.

            “So, what’s the occasion?” Stiles asks.

            “What do you mean?” Danny frowns, sitting on a bench with his sandwich.

            “Well, you know, we’ve been here almost a semester, in the same class, and you haven’t said a word to me, then all of a sudden it’s ‘boom, let’s have lunch.’ Leaves a guy wondering if you need something.”

            “No, I don’t need anything.” Danny shakes his head. _Yes I do._ He thinks. _I need you, in my bedroom, naked…aside from the glasses._

“Okay…”       

            “Look, it’s not like you’ve talked to me either,” Danny points out, and Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t, and he just sits there, mouth hanging open. “What?” Danny asks after a few seconds.

            “Oh my god, you’re right.”

            “You sound surprised…”

            “No, I just…I thought you were ignoring me because you were all “too cool” and shit, but like…I haven’t said anything to you either.” Stiles looks at Danny like this has just dawned on him, and he’s not sure what to do.

            “You okay?” Danny asks.

            “Yeah, just…kinda feel like a douche.”

            “Don’t.” Danny shakes his head. “It’s all forgiven – neither of us said anything, and now we are.”

            “Huh, okay.” Stiles nods. “Agreed.”

            “I like your glasses.”

            “What?” Stiles looks at him.

            “Do you like your classes?” Danny corrects, glad that Stiles missed it the first time.

            “Oh, yeah, I do.” Stiles nods, and then he smiles, and Danny just about falls off the bench. He’s known Stiles awhile, and he’s seen him smile, just never like that. It’s a different smile, a genuine smile. He’s comfortable, he’s happy, and Danny is incredibly attracted to that, because Stiles isn’t some insecure little weirdo anymore, and he knows it, and that’s fucking hot.

            They talk for awhile about classes and what not, and when Stiles checks his phone for the time, he realizes that he’s missed his last class of the day…or at least if he shows, he’ll be late.

            “Fuck.”

            “What?” Danny asks.

            “Just missed my French History class.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal or anything, just a cool class. I’ll get notes off Frankie.”

            “Sorry I made you miss your class,” Danny mumbles, looking down. He doesn’t understand how this happened, how the tables turned, and suddenly, he’s the one feeling like an insecure weirdo. Stiles says interesting things, he says smart things, and while Danny’s plenty smart himself, he’s not necessarily as interesting as Stiles in the way that he thinks. His ideas are inside the box, at least most of the time, and Stiles’? They’re nowhere near the box, but they’re also not wrong, and Danny likes that. Danny really, really likes that.

            “No, it’s totally cool.” Stiles smiles again, and Danny just about kisses him right there.

            “Should I let you go? I can let you go…”     

            “No, really, it’s cool – I mean if you have to go, also cool, or you could not go…and I could not go…I don’t have to go. I mean, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

            Okay, _that_ sounds more like the old Stiles.

            “Regressing much?”

            “Huh?” Stiles raises an eyebrow.

            “Nothing, you just went from being all collected and intellectual to a rambling blob,” Danny points out.

            “Oh, yeah…” Stiles reaches up, scratching the back of his neck, more just to have something to do as he looks away from Danny. “Well you make me kinda nervous.”

            “Oh.” Danny bites his lip. “Well you make me kinda nervous, too.”

            “What?” Stiles looks up, his jaw dropping again. “ _I_ make _you_ nervous?”

            “Well, maybe a little.” Danny shrugs.

            “Is it because I’m weird and that makes you uncomfortable?” He asks, his stomach dropping. He thought they were doing well, and now this?

            “No, no, it’s not that, it’s uh…your glasses.”

            “My glasses make you nervous?”

            “Yes. I mean, no, I mean not just the glasses, the whole “you and the glasses” thing makes me nervous.”

            “I don’t-” Stiles freezes. The sheepish look on Danny’s face says it all, and even Stiles, as oblivious as he is, can’t miss that. His mouth forms an “o” shape, and he nods, eyes wide, but no words leave his mouth.

            “Yuuuuuuuuuuup.” Danny nods. “So I’m gonna go now…”

            He stands to do just that, but Stiles stands and grabs his wrist. Danny turns quickly, and Stiles ducks in a little too quickly for a kiss that Danny doesn’t know is about to happen, and the end up bumping foreheads.

            “Fuck,” Stiles mumbles, pulling back, rubbing his forehead.

            “What the hell was that?” Danny asks, doing the same.

            “I tried to kiss you, cause you said…and I uh…it didn’t work.”

            “No, no it did not.” Danny laughs.

            “Yup.” Stiles nods and shifts awkwardly. It’s silent for almost a full minute before Danny breaks it.

            “Wanna try again?” Danny asks.

            “Oh please god yes.” Stiles nods, and Danny moves forwards. He cups Stiles cheek so that he can guide the kiss and keep them from bumping foreheads.

            This time, it works. The kiss is slow, sweet, and most importantly, it’s the first time that Stiles has ever kissed someone that he was really, honestly attracted to, and it feels really fucking weird, and really fucking great all at once. Danny’s free hand travel’s to Stiles’ waist and rests there while Stiles grabs with both hands at Danny’s side, fabric from the goalie’s shirt gripped in his fists. It’s maybe a little awkward, but “maybe a little awkward” works for them.

            “Okay then.” Stiles gulps as they separate.

            “Wanna go back to my room?” Danny asks.

            “Yes, yup, definitely, yes, sir, I do.” Stiles nods, and Danny laughed.

            “You know, you could have just said yes.”

            “I could also have said no,” Stiles points out.

            “Don’t do that.” Danny grabs Stiles’ hand, tugging him towards the dorms.

            “Don’t worry.” Stiles smiles, squeezing Danny’s hand. “I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Title from The Gift by Angels & Airwaves.


End file.
